


Nice Haircut

by deaneatscake



Series: tumblr fics [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean had long hair and it's canon, Hair-pulling, M/M, Sam is a Little Shit, just utter nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaneatscake/pseuds/deaneatscake
Summary: It’s a normal day at the bunker – until Sam decides to search their old belongings.





	Nice Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://ozonecologne.tumblr.com/post/162786419653/i-cant-see-the-picture-about-dean-having-long) post.

It could have been a great day. Seriously. Dean Winchester’s sitting in the kitchen, having just opened his second beer of the day and watching  _Orange Is The New Black_ with Cas on this ridiculously small laptop. It hasn’t been a conscious choice to purchase such a small notebook when he didn’t longer want to  rely on Sam’s but he couldn’t say that he  _minded_ it now when they both were sitting right next to each other ( _personal space? What was that?_ ), trying to make out what was happening on the screen.

Well, it actually really  _was_ a great day - until Sam comes running into the kitchen, grinning his cheeky  _little-brother-that-wants-to-embarass-his-older-brother-grin_  (and Dean knew that one from painful experience) screeching “Special Agent Dean Winchester, I have a question for you!”

And that - well, that was a weird statement. Dean hovers over the space bar, ready to pause the episode and chase after his little brother if necessary. “…what?” he says warily. He has no idea what he was talking about - they never ever used their own names as aliases, so what the fuck did Sam mean?

“Special Agent Dean Winchester, I just want to ask you one question - how did you get your hair so fluffy?” With that, Sam throws a few really,  _really_ worn out FBI badges on the laptop.

Dean freezes.  _Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit._  He hasn’t seen this badges in a long, long time - over ten years - but now everything came crashing back to him. His first few cases; the way he had cockily assumed that no one would care about his name anyway. The haircut that had been based mostly a throw away comment by Oliver Morgan, one of the witnesses on one of his last cases with this Dad.

Hee could still hear his voice. “Man, I love your hair,” he had said. “You know what would be even better? If it were just… a little bit longer. I could grab it soo much better.” And well, what was he supposed to do then? He had been young and horny and - yeah,  _well_ , just horny. The times he had been hooking up with Oliver in the next few years had just proven him right to let his hair grow out  _just a little bit_.

“Seriously, man, this looks  _great_. Nice haircut! Did you audition as an underwear model with these pics? Cas, take a look at that -” And okay, that’s enough. Dean takes the badges, hiding them from view and hastily stands up to snatch away whatever Sam still had in his hands. Sam of course doesn’t take this well, squirming and holding the pics way over his head so that Dean can’t reach them.  _Why was his fucking little brother so tall?_

“You little bitch!” he exclaims and tries to grab the pics. Sam just laughs; Cas on the other head simply tilts his head.

“Dean, what -” he starts but Dean doesn’t let him talk.

“Help me!” he wheezes. “You jerk!” Dean honestly doesn’t know where Sam has found these badges - he had kept them all for nostalgic reasons for a few years but he had been almost positive that he had thrown them away  _some time_ , so Dean doesn’t want to imagine what else he might have found.

“No seriously man, Cas, look at this, he did a whole fucking photo shoot with different looks, and this hair, man you’re in no position to tell me to cut my hair anytime  _ever_!”

“Well at least I learned my lesson and finally cut it, unlike  _you_ , you heathen!” Dean grumbles. (He had actually loved his hair, okay - until his father had told him that he looked like a  _faggot_ and well, that had hit a little too close to home.)

Cas sighs and stands up to take the remaining pictures out of Sam’s hands with ease.  _How did he even do that, he’s smaller than me_ , Dean thinks, too stunned to snap them away immediately.

“Who was  _this_ dude anyway? Did he take the pics for your badge?” Sam asks, apparently genuinely curious. Dean looks over Cas’ shoulder; sure enough, he’s browsing through a few pictures of Dean with long hair and - with Oliver. Oh well. Dean gulps.

“That’s none of your business,” he says instead and finally snaps the pictures out of Cas’ hands. “Fuck you both,” he adds for good measure. It’s enough that Sam has made fun of him, he doesn’t need Cas to chime in too.

“Dude! Don’t be such a sore loser!” But Dean just flips them the bird, retreating into his room.

Okay; it’s maybe,  _maybe_ fair that Sam ridicules him; he has spent the greater part of his life harassing Sam for his hair. But it had always been in good nature (and maybe a little bit influenced by the fact that he couldn’t sport his hairstyle anymore) and that  _also_ didn’t mean that he really wanted this today; he really didn’t need this particular blast from the past. It has been a  _great_ day until then.

Fuck him, he should have thrown everything away. How did this even get into the bunker and more importantly, somewhere where Sam could  _see_ it? He throws himself onto the bed and tries to close his eyes. Not actually wanting to sleep; just shutting  everything out for a little while. It doesn’t last long though because soon enough there is a soft knock on his door.

“Dean?” That’s Cas’ voice outside the door. Dean sighs. He probably didn’t understand a  _thing_ that had just happened (not that Dean understands it either, so really, they’re both in the same boot) and just wants to continue watching Netflix with him.

“Come in,” he grunts and tries to straighten himself up a bit. Cas comes in, laptop in his hand, slowly closing the door until it’s only open a small crack. He is silent for a few moments, just taking Dean in.

Finally, he takes a deep breath. “I think you looked great with that hair,” he finally says, almost anxiously. Dean is stunned.  _What_? Out of everything that Dean had expected this had to probably be the last thing. Hell, he had thought it even more probable that Cas had asked for a poptart or - whatever.

“Uhm - thanks, Cas,” he says because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Cas sways gently from side to side. “I love your hair now, too,” he adds and Dean’s heart skips a beat.  _Yeah, now you should juuust say I should wear it longer so you can tug at it while I blow you_ , he thinks for a terrible moment before he has control over his thoughts again. Man, he’s the  _worst_.

“Thanks again - I guess.” He really doesn’t know what else to say.

“Do you want to continue watching?” Cas asks hopefully and because Dean has nothing better to do and he  _maybe_ overreacted a bit in the kitchen and he also really wants to do this, he nods.

They’re watching their second episode, now even closer than in the kitchen, when Cas asks “Who was this guy? A hunting friend?”

Dean stills. “No…” he says cautiously. “He was a witness on a case, years ago. And we just - became friends.” Friends is a nice way to put ‘getting fucked six ways to Sunday’, Dean thinks.

“And you’re not talking to him anymore?”

That’s a fucking interrogation if he’s ever seen one. I swear to God if Sam put him on this… “No,” he still answers. “You know the drill, I mean, hunters don’t have friends.”  _Especially not if their friends are fuckbuddies._ “We just lost touch with each other.”  _In the most literal sense._

“I see. Did he tell you to have this haircut?”

Dean’s not blushing.  _How. The. Fuck_. Cas always amazes him - he manages to be both completely socially inept and seeing right through all of his emotions at the same time. Still, he lies: “No. Why the fuck would I let someone else dictate my haircut?”

“Why did you let your hair grow out then? And then cut it?”

Dean feels that now is maybe not the appropriate time to be honest. “Uhm…” He tries hard to think about a different reason. “Just liked change, I guess… the 2000s were wild - I don’t know man.”

“Oh.” Amazingly, that finally does it for Cas. He goes back to watching the episode, slumping a little bit so that his shoulders are now brushing against Dean’s. Dean swallows.

Another five minutes pass by before he finally blurts out “You know, you could also, uhm, grab it really good.” He doesn’t even know where he wants to go with this; he just wanted to get it out of his system.

“Oh?” Cas says again, now perking up a little bit.

Dead nods. He somehow forgets to breathe.  “It was, uhm, nice. It felt nice, I mean.”

“Why?”

Dean’s not squirming. He also definitely  _doesn’t_ notice the fact that Cas seemed to have shuffled a little bit closer. “Don’t know,” he says when all he means is  _I don’t know how to say this to you without sounding like a terrible pick-up line_.  

“And it doesn’t feel nice now?” Dean wonders if Cas is asking this because he is really curious; probably yes because he probably doesn’t know a thing about burying your nose in another person’s hair, tugging at it while you’re getting closer to the edge ( _or maybe he does, because he’s had sex, with a girl with long hair, and oh God, he should stop this thoughts right now_ ).

Cas takes Dean’s silence as an answer, apparently; he slowly starts to raise his hans and grab a good chunk of hair. He doesn’t actually do anything; he doesn’t yank him forward or runs his hands through his hair, he just - holds it. That doesn’t stop Dean’s world from spinning, though.

After a few moments he starts to gently tug at it; Dean almost falls over but managed to hold back. He also doesn’t let a tiny little moan escape his mouth; it’s embarrassing enough as it is _. What a freak show_ , he thinks.  _What the fuck is even this day._

Cas continues working on Dean’s hair; taking his other hand too, running it through the side of Dean’s hair and then staying at the back of his neck for a moment before grabbing a bit more hair. “Uhm,” Dean finally winds up the courage to say, “What are you doing there buddy?”

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Cas asks in return. “I just wanted to make you feel good. You seemed sad when Sam showed you these picture. I assumed you were sad that you don’t have this particular hairstyle anymore. Though - it shouldn’t take long to grow back if you want to.”

“No, that wasn’t -” (it’s really hard to concentrate when Dean’s trying to not get turned on by this like a bloody teenager) “That wasn’t what I… I wasn’t  _sad_.”  _Oh God please help me, or Jesus or whatever, hell I would even take Lucifer, just get me out of here or - do something._

“Hmm.”

This goes on for a few minutes; all while Cas is studying Dean intrigued. Dean has long since given up on trying not to look like he isn’t ridiculously turned on because he  _is_ , as embarrassing as it is.

And somehow, it’s only natural, that after a while when Cas has pulled Dean’s hair again in this fucking - fucking  _special_ way that Dean doesn’t fight to not sink on Cas’ chest and instead let’s himself fall into Cas’ embrace, putting his lips on Cas’.

Cas freezes, letting go of Dean’s hair and Dean recoils. Shit shit shit shit had he read this whole situation wrong?  _Fuck, he should have known, Cas was always curious about the most weird shit, just last week he had asked Dean about how to properly process with fucking pimples, and man now he -_

“Shit, buddy, I’m -” he starts but then Cas is back again, his hands in Dean’s hair, tugging merciless and pulling him into another kiss, and Dean is surprisingly okay with this turn of events.

“I think you  _should_ grow your head out,” Cas says and it sounds almost like a growl.  _Oh my God._  “I could grab it much better.”

…  _oh my God._

As soon as they’re finished with this, he’s going to thank Sam for bringing up these old pictures. But not now. He’s got stuff to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](mijrake.tumblr.com)! If you liked this fic you can help spreading it around by [reblogging](https://mijrake.tumblr.com/post/162802476263/nice-haircut-2109-words-its-a-normal-day-at) it because tumblr sucks and my fics don't show up in the search. :P


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